Damocles Commando
by NGTM-R
Summary: "We need to take down a planet full of Smoke Jaguars. Here's a Bushwhacker. Make it happen." Conner Sinclair is about to have a terrible couple of weeks on Tranquil. His Bushwhacker's going to have it worse though.
1. The Devil Went Down To Tranquil

If you've already read my Freelancer story, this is basically the same idea; novelization with a hint of narrative Let's Play. As the Damocles Commando was part of the Eridani Light Horse from their insignia, it's assumed they've all lived through the attack on Huntress and are pretty veteran. I've actually read Loren Coleman's novelization but the personalities feel off from their appearances in the game (particularly in terms of Pirate's Moon), and it's not the most faithful adaption in general. One gets the impression it was contractually required and without heart.

Yes, Pirate's Moon. I'm doing the expansion too, come the time for it.

 **The Devil Went Down to Tranquil**

"Sergeant Sinclair." There was something... _unreal_ about this meeting. I'd been on Huntress since Task Force Serpent had landed, and for the last week or so I'd been firmly convinced I would die here.

Now I, _we_ , were safe. Being briefed by a Com Guard officer, a full Precentor, and in the background hovered _Focht_. Anastasius Focht, the man who'd saved the Inner Sphere at Tukkayid, the Precentor Martial of ComStar, highest-ranking officer in that organization. "The Eridani Light Horse has done a great deal, but under the circumstances you're the only ones we can turn to. A large Smoke Jaguar force is moving through Clan space to another of their worlds, where Galaxy Commander Brendon Corbett has issued a call to rally. While most of their holdings are under attack by opportunists in other Clans, this one is not, and it includes enough manufacturing capacity to possibly let them reform. Not as a force as powerful as they were, but it would ruin our effort to annihilate them outright."

Ah. They wanted me to volunteer. "And you need people from the Light Horse who are still in fighting shape. Not just physically, mentally." You see your regiment reduced to a couple of companies effective. You watch the guy who marked your landing zone and made your drop a pushover get vaporized. Yeah, he was DEST, but _dammit._ DEST are the best special forces in the Inner Sphere. They shouldn't...just _die_. Yes, it's stupid to think that. It's emotional, not rational. Understanding that does not rob it of its power.

But I'm still sane and still fighting, unlike poor Jeremy in his _Crusader_ who snapped, running forward to beat on a stunned Jaguar _Fire Moth_ while the rest of the Star shot him to pieces. Jeremy never punched out, even when his ammo blew. Unlike Linda, who bought the farm to a lucky PPC hit on her _Blackjack_ Omni's cockpit. Unlike Max, who lost an arm as he punched out of his wrecked _Phoenix Hawk_.

Of course my _Bushwhacker_ is a wreck and all the Clantech we'd kitbashed onto it since invading Huntress has to be replaced with factory-fresh Inner Sphere parts because it was such a mess. Shame.

"Yes." That was Focht. _Focht._ Holy shit, I am talking to _Anastasius Focht_. "Are you willing to join up for this operation?"

And I say "Yes sir." because it's _Anastasius Focht_ and what else am I going to say? No, can't do it, sorry savior of the Inner Sphere?

* * *

"This is Tranquil. Ironic name for a Clanspace world, but seems to fit what we know of its history. The majority holdings are Clan Wolf, but this peninsula here;" the recon shot was black and white, they'd dug it out of the wreckage of the Mount Szabo command facility I guess; "is held by the Jaguars. So is the polar continent above it, but there's nothing there worth mentioning. It's the site of their only 'Mech production facility off Huntress that hasn't been taken by another Clan. We hoped the Wolves would move against it, but they're battening down the hatches instead. The arrival of our main force in Clan space has them worried." The briefing is being given by Commodore Berswick. He's the ranking officer of Task Force Serpent left, no matter what you'd hear about Andy Redburn. At least as far as most of us in the Light Horse care.

"We are borrowing the _FCS Invincible_ for transport. The Jaguars have a pair of aerospace stars in the garrison, second-line fighters, but it leans heavy and they will probably contest a landing. The WarShip and her fighters can make sure the landing is possible, and as a last resort can strike targets that are too tough for the ground team. DropShips _Eclipse_ and _Black Hammer_ will carry six lances for a commando strike against preplanned targets. Captain Mitchell?"

Mitchell was an intel guy. I knew him by rep; he was 71st Light Horse, like me. Not too many of us left, honestly. These two companies represented about a third of the combat strength of the Eridani Light Horse at the moment, and at least some of the folks in the room aren't actually ELH from their patches. Perversely, there are more combat troops left than support staff, after the Jaguars deliberately went after the support crews a couple times. We probably have half the support structure that's not in the hospital in this room.

Well, half the support structure that doesn't consist of Clan techs we've adopted. It seemed weird to us back after Trafalgar, that Clan non-warrior castes would turn-to and work for us so easily. It no longer seems weird after our time on Huntress. The Jags were brutal on their civvies. We treat them like people rather than as expendable as ammunition. What kind of a warrior society beats their maintenance people? How does that even _work_ without causing constant sabotage?

"Operation Damocles will be conducted in four tactical sub-ops. Each will target a different facility that the Jaguars have, in addition to engaging any targets of opportunity, with an eye towards military infrastructure. Damocles One under Lieutenant Sinclair," you know, somebody could have mentioned my apparent promotion before this meeting, "will be going after this smaller peninsula off the main one, which houses a 'Mech production facility." At a glance, there's a river valley that would channel all movement awkwardly while moving towards the factory. The op area looks like it's about 20 by 20 klicks, maybe a little less, but the river valley constrains things to a corridor maybe a couple of klicks wide and seven to ten long. Need more sense of scale to be sure. "Damocles Two under Lieutenant Lovat will attack a hydroelectric dam here while Damocles Three under Captain Tanya will attack here, which includes a major logistics site and some hardened underground facilities, contents unknown. Considering the trouble the Jags went to, however, they are likely quite important. Damocles Four, Five, and Six will land in these locations and coordinate their operations to the level of enemy activity. Their targets are a training facility, several munitions factories, and a fortress. All teams will rendezvous here, at the city of Durgan, destroy its military quarter and storehouses, seize the local spaceport, and extract after it has been rigged to blow. Durgan is critical; it houses one of the only facilities in Clan space that builds parts for 'Mech production equipment, so the Jaguars could build as many 'Mech factories as they want as long as they have Durgan intact, or trade those parts to other Clans for almost anything they like." How did anyone miss that? It seems _kind of important_ , for Blake's sake. I take a breath and step back, mentally. We knew nothing about Clanspace when we got here; we only had intel on Huntress. It actually makes sense we'd miss stuff like this. "From there, they will move to the spaceport and destroy it."

"The Jaguars had a pair of Provisional Garrison Clusters in place, but at least some of it was accounted for on Huntress in the second wave. Most of them are likely staring over the border on the other side of the pole from this area, looking at the Wolves. They can't move, if the Wolves break through then all is lost just as much as if we succeed. Based on our experience on Huntress, we expect many of them to be using Inner Sphere equipment, or old Star League gear. Brendon Corbett himself means a command unit of front-line troops, though."

"Detailed briefings will be presented by your intel officers." Now what does that mean? Lances don't have intel officers.

* * *

Lances have intel officers. Each team on this op has about thirty support folks, comms, intel, techs. Lieutenant Sorenson, First Kathil Uhlans, runs intelligence and operations for Damocles One. Scratch team all around. I _was_ actually promoted, but the usual snafuing meant I was late to find out. Dominic Paine, Tracey Duvall, and Keith Andrews for my first command as fighting parts, Sorenson leads the support staff. They worked out a way to drop the mobile field bases we use with us, so we can repair and reload in the field, or rekit if we have the time.

Dominic was regimental recon for the 151st Light Horse. The 'Mech he came to Huntress in was toasted by the Jags in the original drop, but they put together a shiny new _Shadow Cat_ for him, and he managed to keep it intact through the long retreat from the Jaguar reinforcements. Tracey was part of a Battle Lance somewhere, one of the other regiments. She has a _Black Hawk_ which I gather is her third 'Mech since she came to Huntress. Keith was in the Fire Lance of my own company. _Catapult_ , Arrow IV artillery missile system. I learned to rely on those missile artillery blasts like I did my 'Mech's armor during the retreat, and I am glad to have him on board for this.

We've gone over the op, all of us, several dozen times. We've also gone over the other ops in less detail, except for the spaceport and the last op. We're as ready as we can be, and we're loaded up, waiting. Our deployment DropShip is the SLS _Black Hammer_ , part of the 151st regimental transport group. The Jags never really touched our DropShips, fortunately. "Deployment in five minutes."

It's not my first drop. It's nobody's first drop, at least among the MechWarriors. We all dropped on Huntress. There we were afraid. I feel no shame in that admission. What we planned to do was bold, almost lunatic; not since Morgan Hasek-Davion and Andy Redburn had dropped the First Kathil Uhlans on Sian during the Fourth Succession War had anything like this been attempted. And our plans involved seizing and wrecking an enemy capital world, not raiding one.

Here...I don't feel fear, so much. A kind of...wariness. Watchful, but not keyed up. This was not a time for action, and so I do not feel compelled to be active, nervous. I have a partial scan going over the _Bushwhacker_ 's instruments, out of habit. BattleMech fusion reactors are about as safe as fusion reactions can be made; only catastrophic combat damage can cause them to be any danger, and even then that danger is only to the BattleMech that's carrying it. The plasma doesn't last long outside containment but it can still fry up the 'Mech's innards pretty good in the half-second it's loose. Still, the next three minutes are the last chance I have to detect any lingering maintenance issues. The reactor power output and containment stability are smooth as silk. The tech team for this op is half ex-Jaguar, lead by a Bethany who is also ex-Jaguar. Bethany's an interesting character; she wasn't born Smoke Jaguar, but belonged to some other Clan and was taken as part of a Trial. Which Clan has never come up when I've spoken to her, though I do know that she was never actually Warrior Caste.

She has the _Bushwhacker_ running like it's factory-new. Maybe better. Perfectionists don't last handling combat repairs, where "perfect" can be the enemy of "good enough". Bethany wasn't a perfectionist. She'd just had three weeks of transit time to make sure. "The smoother it is now, the easier it will be to return it to an acceptable standard after our warriors have bashed it around. We can get this _right_ , quiaff?" she'd said to the other techs, until it drove them up the wall.

Three minutes are up. Drop pod is moving onto the deployment arm. "Damocles One, stand by to drop. Our window is a little off, minute and thirty. Lieutenants."

Sorenson's voice as the hard-wired comms to the DropShip disconnect. "Damocles One, report readiness."

"Damocles One-One, ready op." "Damocles One-Two, ready op." "Damocles One-Three, ready op." "Damocles One-Four, ready op."

"Damocles Support, ready op." Sorenson finishes. " _Black Hammer_ , Damocles One is ready to drop."

"Roger, standby." I mentally count down the seconds. "Drop." Freefall.

"Drop pods deployed, Damocles One and support vehicles are away." Sorenson's voice. I'm looking at an external shot from a recon probe. It's panning; Sorenson's doing. He has the controls nearby. For me, there's no control at all. Strapped into a drop pod's cradle, the _Bushwhacker_ can't even move, and I only have an emergency backup for the braking rockets. The computer is handling this because I can't do it. Now there is a spark of fear. If the drop pod bumps some orbital debris, gets hit by a meteorite, if the computer barfs, I will die. And there will not be a damn thing I can do about it. Black Hammer swept the area with radar and infrared to check it, and a DropShip's targeting radar can track things down to the size of a loose bolt at ten thousand klicks, but there's always a chance.

It's not the chance, though. It's the helplessness. That's what brings that spark of fear. The idea that I'll be unable to do anything but watch death approach. I can deal with dying if I think I have a chance to affect it, even if that's only a chance to delay it or choose the manner of it. My view pans over to the Black Hammer on its deployment run, while Damocles Two's pods pass close to mine on course for their objective. Sorenson's on the line again. "Testing recon probe. Video image optim-"

"Sir!" Someone in the background, with Sorenson, coming over his mic. "Energy spike on the planet's surface, that indicates large-"

One. Then another. A spear of emerald emerald light spiking up from the planet's surface, striking the _Black Hammer_. There's what looks like a shower of sparks; armor and internal components being melted and flash-vaporized, glowing briefly in vacuum as they move away from the DropShip. Then the feed fuzzes out on me. Fear goes to dread.

I saw the vids of the fight over Huntress. CSS _Emerald_ and CSS _Starlight_ , spearing a Clan WarShip with their naval lasers. It looked very much like that. If there's a WarShip here, we are all dead men and women. It'll kill us before we touch down. The feed dies. Panic in the background on Sorenson's mic. "What the hell was that-" "Can't get a reading on this equipment-" "Can you confirm 'Mech pod deployment?" That last was Sorenson himself.

Another voice, I don't recognize it. "Mayday, mayday, we are going down!" Then, silence. The comms were being patched through the _Black Hammer_ , and apparently the _Black Hammer_ is no longer able to do so. Possibly because it's no longer with us.

The blasts came from the planet though. SDS. Space Defense System. Nobody knew they had one, but if they do an active SDS will kill us all just as surely, unless-

The feed comes back with an automated "Communications reestablished" from my 'Mech's computer. "What are we looking at?" Sorenson again. "Can somebody redirect the probe?" It turns towards a pair of pods. One is burning into the atmosphere straight. The other...is weaving. It must be tumbling. Shit!

"Sir, I have Damocles One Dash Two on the left-damn!" The other pod catches fire obviously, beyond normal reentry flames at the front. "Sir, Damocles Four is breaking up." Sorenson's assistant, a Feldwebel Jurgen from the Seventh Lyran Guard. Damocles Four, one of them...the pod splits in half and turns into two streaks of flame. They're dead. Debris from the _Black Hammer_ must have hit them.

"Damn." Sorenson's is calmer, but somehow more heartfelt. "Damocles One, please stand by."

"We've lost contact with DropShip _Black Hammer_ and the other commandos." That's Captain Taylor, commander of the other DropShip, the _Eclipse_. " _Eclipse_ is abandoning its run. Datafeed from the probe indicates you are dropping on-target. Will ascertain your situation and their current threat level as soon as possible. _Eclipse_ out."

Taylor just threw us into the shark pool, and he didn't even have the courtesy to act like he was going to listen to us as he did it. Just "out" and not "over"; announcing he was ending the conversation. I'm angry with him, and I know it's irrational considering the _Black Hammer_ just got pasted, but I'm still angry. "Damocles One-One to Damocles One-Support. Status of Damocles One?"

"We have confirmed a pod for Damocles One-Two and One-Four, but no communications with any other Damocles elements aside from _Eclipse_ at this time." Jurgen, not Sorenson, though I can hear him in the background, trying to establish contact with the others.

Rumble and a bit of a shimmy as the pod hits the atmosphere and starts to aerobrake. Welcome to Tranquil. Welcome to the deep end.


	2. A Day At The Beach

**A Day At The Beach**

"I said get me online. I'll worry about the others later." Sorenson's voice. A space recon shot of my initial landing area gets fed to me. "Sinclair. Status of the Black Hammer is still uncertain. I've yet to raise your lancemates or teams two and three. Captain Mitchell was aboard the DropShip, so all we have is canned probe data and orbital imagery. You are falling on-target from what we can tell. Operations Area One is still the same as it was. Link-up and targets of opportunity in the first sub-area, eliminate heavy missile platforms defending the valley in two, destroy supply facility in three, and attack the 'Mech factory in four. The lack of strong forces suggest an easy target. Wait one; new data coming through."

"Give it to me." I command. He calls me Sinclair, because technically he has date of rank over me giving him the sort of technical seniority that would let him; but Sorenson is staff, I'm line, therefore I command. The intricacies of rank in a scratch team from four different units.

"Damocles One-Three is not on-target. She's headed for a splashdown."

"How deep?" A BattleMech can operate underwater without modification, but only to a point. Most are only watertight to a depth of about a hundred and fifty meters, but many are capable of less. An armor breach will instantly flood a section and ruin it. And there is no way to escape for the pilot. Underwater is not a place you want to go normally.

I realize I'm asking a question Sorenson can't answer and mentally curse myself, just before Tracy's voice broke in. "Ten kilometers out. Sorry, guys."

She's apologizing to us. She's probably going to die for no good reason and has no control over it and she's apologizing to us. It's absurd, but at the same time I get it. She feels like she's failing to do her part. To carry her weight. Back in Basic, long ago, when somebody had to fall out of a three-day march, they looked at the rest of us and were ashamed. They felt it made them inferior. We resented them because they wouldn't have to finish, because we'd have to carry their gear. It's the same thing here.

But we're older and wiser than we used to be, I hope. "Anything you need said to anyone?"

She sighs. "Not now. I took care of all that before Huntress. Remind my old company commander about it."

"I will. Good luck." It's all I have left to offer her. There's a chance, but we don't know enough about the geography, the geology...an ocean's an ocean to us. We only have orbital imagery, drone flybys, and what we got out of the Jaguar facilities on Huntress. Underwater topography is a mystery to us. We didn't even survey the ocean surface unless it was within a klick or two of the peninsula.

"Same to you, Lieu-"

"Loss of signal." Sorenson said. "She wasn't near the surface. Damn. Sinclair, our data is extremely out of date, however: you're falling slightly off-target. We predict a shallow water splashdown," a drone flyby starts running, "here, near this fishing village. If you want to get on and off the beach, this bridge is essential." The drone data pauses. "It's protected by these fixed missile emplacements." Pan right, then left. SRM launchers on turrets. Not a big deal. "After that, your first target. There's a Clan communications facility just up the hill. Take it down and you'll cut this area off from the rest of the Jaguars for awhile, enough time to give us a good head-start on any reinforcements to the factory. Then rendezvous with the mobile field bases, here. There a couple more missile emplacements that command the approaches, and those will have to go before the MFBs can move. Light vehicles and maybe a light 'Mech or two in the area, nothing more."

"Understood. I'm LOS in...fifteen seconds. Good luck."

"Likewise, lance lead-" LOS kicks in early.

* * *

The drop pod blows off at ten thousand feet and the last set of braking rockets start to fire, strapped to the 'Mech's legs and torso. I had my hand over the emergency backup for them, but it wasn't necessary. Below me, the water and land are very close it seems; I honestly can't tell where I'll land. Not that it really matters either way; if something goes wrong, at this velocity, water will kill me just as surely as rock. I watch the altitude dial spin down, very still. It's silly, I can't tip the thing over right now even if I try to, but I still end up trying to stay very still.

'Mech pilots end up doing things like this as a function of the neurohelmet. Control inputs drive a BattleMech, no question. The neurohelmet only coordinates balance and motion, makes it quick and smoothish rather than clunky and falling-over awkward. But you do get some level of sympathy in the 'Mech. A MechWarrior who's been fidgeting for awhile might notice that their weapons are tracking back and forth by a degree or two. If you've hurt your leg and you're favoring one side when you walk, the 'Mech will favor that side in its own very mechanical way _._ Violent, sudden motion when the helmet's plugged in, like if you're not strapped in and get thrown around in the cockpit, can cause the 'Mech balance problems. If you're on stimulants for an eighteen-hour shift in the cockpit and they give you the shakes, the 'Mech will occasionally twitch. Sometimes if you grab for something in the cockpit while the 'Mech's having a balance problem, it disrupts the balance for a split second. It's never graceful, never _alive_ enough to seem like a real person, but it happens. MechWarriors get used to thinking of their in-cockpit motions as possibly affecting their machines.

If you're asking if you get anything back from the 'Mech...well, one, but it's not sympathetic to the 'Mech moving. Major damage or overload affecting the electronics and gyro sometimes feeds back through the neurohelmet. Feels like someone set off a bomb inside your head.

I'm definitely going to land in the water. Not far out, I'm not even sure it'll be deep enough to submerge the 'Mech entirely. I can make out the fishing village with magnification. Under a dozen buildings, small, two-story.

The rockets go to max power and the view is lost again.

* * *

So my first feet on the ground experience of Tranquil is a bunch of guys in mottled blue with black berets, Jaguar cold-weather uniform, running along the docks in front of me. My Bushwhacker is submerged up to its hips, but no more. There are boats, lot of them, fishing village. No civvies in view, I think. It's not always easy to tell with Clanners, the civilian castes usually wear fairly uniform clothing.

The Jags shoot at me with assault rifles.

It's stupid. They're posted as foot infantry, and in the Clans that means they're washed up or screwups, and they see me as a heaven-sent chance for death in combat that their careers will otherwise deny them the chance for. A Clanner with your level of gear is an unholy terror because they honestly don't _care_ if they survive. Death and glory are deeply interlinked concepts for them. They believe in their souls that death in battle is the only death that has any meaning, the only death anyone should be trying to achieve. On the other hand, it means Clanners will do really dumb shit when they're underarmed or underprepared for a fight because they've got so little self-preservation instinct they don't stop and think about whether they should be fighting at all. So they're shooting at me with assault rifles when I'm in a 55-ton BattleMech that really doesn't give a crap about that, in hopes of pissing me off enough that I'll give them the glorious death in combat their society has taught them to seek.

Well, congratulations. It worked. I toggled to the pair of machine guns the _Bushwhacker_ carries and swept the docks with fire. The Jags went down, and I throttled up, swinging left, then turned right and drove through the docks to dump any survivors in the water. I suppose that was petty of me, a thought I had as I waded through the breakers a bit more, and paused.

Some rifle fire pinged off the back of the Bushwhacker. With a sigh I turned it around again and unleashed a single large ER laser shot at the small trawler some of the Jag infantry had swum to. It punched a hole at the waterline, explosive vaporization making it a big hole, and then the trawler quickly began to capsize.

"Lance leader this is the mobile field base, we're down on target." Sorenson's voice.

"Copy. How are things?" I replied.

"Movement all around us. Don't waste time getting here." Sorenson started trying to contact other Damocles elements.

A couple of light vehicles, APCs, are moving along the beach. I tapped them once each with the large ER laser; they stopped moving. Good enough for me. Still gave the wrecks a wide berth in case there were lurking infantry who might have better gear. Neutralized the SRM launchers from outside their range with the _Bushwhacker_ 's paired LRM-5s.

Then the lock-threat audible went off. Targeting radar, the band commonly associated with 'Mechs. No 'Mech appeared, though...but he's around here somewhere. Have to be cautious, so I slow down. The bridge is in sight, there's a convoy of trucks near it.

A crackle, something about explosives and parking it on the bridge. "Catch that lance leader? Labour-caste frequencies. Something about explosives. Be careful." The trucks are moving onto the bridge. This one doesn't take a genius to figure out.

The transmission was low-power, the MFBs may not have gotten a good listen compared to me. "Parking it on the bridge, too. They're going to blow the bridge. Is there an alternate route?"

"Negative Lance Leader. The bridge is at an embankment, though. A collapse may leave a path you can traverse. Recommend you conserve your autocannon ammunition to collapse the embankment." Sorenson replied.

Well, the AC10 is technically my primary weapon, but I still don't see that 'Mech. Depending on what he is, I may or may not be able to do that. And...there he is. An _Owens_. They're actually quite new, in the Inner Sphere. Under five years old. The Clanners shipped a lot of stuff they captured back to the homeworlds, or at least the Jags did, but I'm surprised they've captured an _Owens_. He fired his lasers at me, and I fired my ER large back at him along with two flights of LRMs. Then he mounted the bridge and stepped on one of them trucks. The bridge hadn't been blown, probably because I wasn't getting near it yet.

Then he mounted the bridge and stepped on one of the trucks. The bridge hadn't been blown, probably because I wasn't getting near it yet.

Whatever was in there wasn't military-grade explosives. They wouldn't have blown up if they were. You can bang on proper milspec explosives or light them on fire safely. Whatever they were, they were pretty powerful though; the explosion and the other two trucks after it blew his left leg off, collapsed the bridge and the embankment, and left him in the rubble, kicking one leg in a futile effort to stand up. The _Owens_ is designed so that its arms are just weapons pods. It can, in fact, get on its feet again without using its arms; there are a lot of 'Mechs designed with arms that wouldn't help for it, and standing back up is an important thing to be able to do. But all of those designs assume the presence of both legs as well. The left leg on the _Owens_ was broken off at the knee, and he wasn't getting up again without somebody replacing his left leg. I moved forward and lowered the AC10 at his cockpit. He noticed, his struggling increased, and he pointed one of his arms at me and fired. It was only a medium laser and it didn't do much damage, considering my armor was almost intact.

Well, I _was_ going to give you a chance to abandon your 'Mech and live. Even the Clans have a concept of offering surrender, after a fashion. They call it _hegira_ , granting the other side an honorable retreat when it is clear that you have won, your opponent has lost, and continued combat will not change that. Instead, he gets a cockpit full of autocannon shells now. I climbed, carefully, up the collapsed embankment, dealt with a couple more SRM turrets, and covered while the MFB crews checked out the Clan comms center before I destroyed it with the _Bushwhacker_ 's weapons.

In retrospect, the fact I basically executed that _Owens_ pilot was probably my worst decision on Tranquil.


End file.
